Faded Memories | lp

Chapter Two

August 31st, 2014

My mind is fuzzy, and I can't recall going to sleep, but I'm sure I feel my body on a bed. I try to pry open my eyes, but sleep holds me tight. My mind wanders, I can't remember what I was doing. Maybe I fell asleep on the couch again, and my mom carried me to bed. I hear voices, but they aren't my mom. One voice rises over the rest, he's shouting at someone. I can't quite make out the words but I can tell he's upset over something.

Then it's quiet again.

I feel my body nearing the surface on consciousness. I blink open my eyes.

I am definitely not home. I think I'm in a hospital. What happened? My arm's in a sling and I feel like I just did a round with a heavyweight champion.

"Jo?" Hey, that's my name! But who is he? What's-His-Name rushes forward and kisses me, full on the lips. I retreat my head back into my pillow, shaking my head until he moves away.

"Who are you?" I say harshly. It looks like this guys heart just broke. His brown eyes are red and it looks like he hasn't slept in days.

He laughs harshly, "Jo, c'mon, stop fooling around, you're scaring me." His voice cracks at the end.

"I'm sorry, but I don't.." I stop talking when a older guy in a white coat steps in.

"Liam, excuse me, can you please wait outside, it'll be easier." The new dude looks at the younger guy with sympathy. He gets up and walks out.

"How are you feeling, Jo?" He sits down in a chair across from my bed.

"Um, weird actually. Who was that guy?" I'm so hopelessly confused.

"It doesn't matter right now, do you know what day it is?" He jumps right to questioning me. I uncomfortably reposition myself.

"Um," I scratch my head, "July 2012?"

His face pales, "Jo, it's August of 2014."

I laugh, he can't be serious, how could I just forget two years? He doesn't laugh.

"With all seriousness, I fear you may be experiencing amnesia. You were in a car crash yesterday night." He says.

It's overwhelming. I'm not sure how to feel.

"It's 2014?" I ask in a whisper after a moment of silence.

"Yes."

"Can you tell me who that boy was, now?" I ask.

"His name is Liam, and he's your friend." The doctor says.

"Just friend?" The way he kissed me was more than friendly.

"Boyfriend."

"Okay, I can deal with that. Anything else happen in he past two years I should know about?"

"Jo, it's probably better to gradually get back in your life, not just jump back in. It is possible to get your memories back overtime, it's just very unlikely." He tells me.

I nod.

"Liam, come in please." The doctor yells outside the door.

The boy walks in and holds his stare with mine. His curiosity shows. He takes a seat next to the doctor. I notice his hands shake.

"Liam?" I say, sitting up in bed.

His eyes glow with hope, but it's soon extinguished.

"I'm so sorry, I don't know who you are." Might as well give it to him how it is. I don't sugar-coat things.

He tries to wipe his eyes before I can see him cry, but I notice anyway. The doctor excuses himself and Liam waits in my room while I change into normal clothes, which is hard to do when your arm hurts like holy hell anytime you move it too far in one direction.

"I um," Liam fakes a smile, "brought your notebook. I thought maybe you would be itching to write." He says when I come back into the room from the bathroom.

"Write?" I ask.

He nods and he looks like he's in a terrible amount of pain.

"He said I could get my memories back, maybe." I say.

"You uh," he smiles like he's remembering something that happened before, "you would always carry your notebook with you, just in case you thought of something for a new book."

"I write?" I ask.

He nods with moisture around his eyes.

"Hm, never thought I would be a writer. Am I any good?" I try to lighten the mood but it seems like I'm making this harder for him. I don't even know him, but he obviously knows me. I can tell by the way he looks at me when he doesn't think I notice.

"You've published two books, but you don't know how to end the one you're working on." He says so matter-of-fact.

"Where are we? Where's my mom?" I ask. I don't even know if we're in America. The dude, Liam, I'm talking with is obviously British.

"We're in Chicago, Illinois. You were on your way to a concert when you-" he gets choked up and stops. I feel so bad for him, I'm supposedly his girlfriend, but I can't even remember the last two years of my life. I don't think it's actually hit me yet, that I've lost two years worth of memories.

"Where's my mom?" I ask again.

"You've never really talked to me about your mom, something about her being a hopeless drunk that you don't want anything to do with."

That renders me speechless. So she went off the deep end in the past two years.

"Who was I seeing in concert?" I ask.

His eyes darken, "Me."

"You?"

"Me."

"Really?"

"Uh huh."

"Well, that's cool. My boyfriend is famous." I say. He cringes at the word boyfriend and how casually I throw it out there.

"We actually have to get going, I don't know how long my band can wait for us." He says. He stands up and offers his hand.

I accept his hand and stand with him.

"Band? Wait, us? I'm going with you?" I ask, so confused.

"Yeah, you tend to write better when you're not home." He says.

"Where do I live?" I ask. I feel awful, asking Liam all these questions.

"Michigan, in a trailer, on a lake." He says. He smiles as if he's remembering a nice thought.

"A trailer?" I ask in disbelief.

"It's a nice trailer, it costed almost a million dollars, but you like it up there." He mumbles the part in the middle.

"Jesus Christ. I'm a hippie." I say in horror. Liam laughs.

"Not really." He says, and for a second, it's almost like we're back to normal.